


when you look at the stars

by warmachine



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Stargazing, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:19:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7106482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmachine/pseuds/warmachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Pardon?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I said,” Jim began, avoiding Spock’s gaze, his voice uneven. “I said… when I’m gone, I want you to think of me when you look at the stars.” Spock opened his mouth to respond, but Jim kept speaking before he could. “I just… don’t want to be forgotten, you know?”</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you look at the stars

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing spock! this is also my attempt to Destroy my writer's block (':
> 
> i've been having a lot of Spock Feelings lately so i wanted to try and write some spirk. this ended up a lot shorter than i expected & i don't really know how i feel about it ,, s i g h s
> 
> anyway... enjoy !!!

It was Jim’s birthday.

The day had passed uneventfully. Jim had acted as normal as ever on the bridge, as if it were any other day; however, at the end of his shift, he had left the bridge silently, and gone back to his quarters alone. A few hours had passed since then, and Spock knew Jim hadn’t left to eat, or anything. So, he had come to Jim’s quarters to hopefully coax him into leaving at least long enough to get food.

Spock had just entered, and was standing silently by the door to Jim’s bedroom. Jim himself was sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard, his knees drawn up to his chest. He didn’t acknowledge Spock’s presence, and instead was staring dreamily at the wall.

“I used to have a window seat in my room,” Jim said quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself. Spock said nothing in response; apparently didn’t need to. “When the sky was clear at night, I’d fall asleep there instead of in my bed. I could see so many stars, right from my window, and when the moon was full it shone into my room just like sunlight.” Jim heaved a wistful sigh, his gaze still directed at nothing in particular. “In the summer sometimes there were fireflies in the yard, and they’d land on my window. If they landed close together I’d pretend they were constellations. I’d fall asleep listening to the frogs and the cicadas and I’d have dreams where the stars weren’t so far out of my reach.” Jim finally seemed to refocus, and he turned his head to look at Spock. “I wish the _Enterprise_ had more windows,” he continued, melancholy; his gaze slowly slid from Spock to the wall again. “If I had one in here, I could fall asleep watching the stars whizz past.”

“My mother had a similar fascination with outer space,” Spock commented after a few beats of silence, still having not moved. Jim nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the wall next to Spock. “Often, she would bring me outside at night to stargaze. She taught me what she knew about outer space when I was very young, and as I grew older I taught her what I learned in school.” Spock’s expression softened slightly, his posture relaxing a bit as he spoke about Amanda. “She occasionally slept by her window as well.”

“I wish I could have met her,” Jim breathed, his voice nearly a whisper. “I wish I could have met my dad, too. Every time I looked up at the stars, I thought of him. It felt like he was up there somewhere looking after me.” Jim’s expression became pained, a sad smile gracing his features. “Though it’s pretty clear to me now that he’s not out here anywhere.”

Spock stepped closer to Jim, tentatively, reaching out and placing his hand gently on Jim’s shoulder; an attempt to comfort him. “His memory is preserved in your thoughts,” Spock offered, his voice quiet, gentle. “He… ‘lives on’ with you, so to speak.”

Jim reached up, thoughtlessly, putting his hand over Spock’s on his shoulder, and Spock could sense Jim’s sorrow, his nostalgia, his longing. “I guess he does,” Jim muttered, slowly closing his hand around Spock’s. “And your mom… she lives on with you, too. In the stars; in your heart and your memories.”

Spock simply nodded, gradually withdrawing his hand from Jim’s shoulder. Jim didn’t let go of Spock’s hand, however, and so Spock joined him on the bed, very carefully sitting cross-legged across from Jim. They both sat there, in front of each other, in silence, for several minutes; Jim’s eyes closed, his hand still holding Spock’s. Spock was lost in thought; thinking about his mother, about the things Jim had told him, about how to comfort him (and get him to eat). It took him a moment to realize Jim had opened his eyes and said something to him.

“Pardon?”

“I said,” Jim began, avoiding Spock’s gaze, his voice uneven. “I said… when I’m gone, I want you to think of me when you look at the stars.” Spock opened his mouth to respond, but Jim kept speaking before he could. “I just… don’t want to be forgotten, you know?”

Spock took a deep breath, slowly, gathering his thoughts before he responded to Jim. “It is extremely unlikely that I or anyone else on this ship will forget you,” he said slowly, trying to project calmness and reassurance to Jim. “You have, quite irreversibly, greatly impacted our lives.” When Jim didn’t respond, continued to avoid looking at Spock, Spock moved closer, bringing his free hand up to lightly touch Jim’s face. “I will never forget you,” he murmured, his fingers sliding carefully down Jim’s cheek until they were under his chin. Spock tilted Jim’s face upward, gently, trying to get Jim to meet his gaze. “I will never forget you,” Spock repeated, whispering now. He leaned forward, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to Jim’s lips, pulling back a few moments later to gauge Jim’s expression.

“I’ll never forget you either,” Jim promised, finally meeting Spock’s gaze, a small smile on his face. “I’ll find a constellation that looks like you, if I have to, and copy it down where I’ll see it every day….” Jim trailed off, closing his eyes again and leaning his forehead against Spock’s.

They stayed like that for a few more minutes, silently lost in each other’s touch, until Jim’s stomach grumbled rather loudly.

“Uh.” Jim opened his eyes and sat up straight, looking sheepish. “I guess I kind of forgot to eat...?”

“Indeed,” Spock agreed, withdrawing his hands from Jim and turning to slide off of the bed. Jim followed, straightening his shirt and running his hand through his hair a bit awkwardly. “You don’t have to come with me, if you don’t want,” he offered pathetically, still looking sheepish.

“Nonsense.” Spock started toward the door, Jim continuing to follow. “It _is_ your birthday, after all.”

Jim grinned, walking after Spock out into the hallway toward the mess, his worries already forgotten.

* * *

It was Jim’s birthday.

Spock walked carefully up the hill, his hands stuffed rather insistently into his coat pockets. He wasn’t as tolerant of the cold as he used to be, and he suppressed a shiver as he finally came to a stop at the top of the hill. He sat down, carefully, cross-legged in the cold grass, and looked up at the sky. It was clear; he could see the stars, even the Milky Way very clearly. He thought of Amanda for a moment; how she would stare so reverently up at the stars, how her eyes would light up when she taught him about her favorite constellations. He thought of Jim; of that one night so long ago when he told Spock about how he’d fall asleep at his window, how he’d dream of space, how he wanted to be remembered. How lost loved ones lived on in the stars.

Spock looked down from the sky just a moment, down at Jim’s gravestone. “I think of you when I see the stars,” he murmured, removing one of his hands from his pockets to lightly touch the cold stone. He sighed, lightly, his breath clouding in the cold air.

“I will never forget you.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! as always comments are welcomed and appreciated (': also, feel free to yell at me [on tumblr](http://st4rfleet.tumblr.com/).
> 
> P.S. i wrote this while listening to "an ending" from the undertale soundtrack on repeat. Destroy me
> 
> **edit june 19, 2016:**  
>  today, when i heard about anton yelchin's death, i was reminded of what i wrote in this fic. i'm very active in the trek fanbase, so it seems like everyone around me is hurting. i'm not doing too well either, but... it is important to celebrate his life. don't focus only on his death -- he lives on with us. he is with us in all sorts of ways -- he lives in our thoughts, our memories of him; in our AOS fanworks and gifsets and whatnot. he lives on in the stars. hold on to his memory and don't let him go. he will never die this way. he will continue to live on with us, and i'm sure, wherever he might be now, he feels our love. he would be happy to know we are remembering him and celebrating him, so please celebrate him. hold him in your heart and do not let him go.
> 
> honestly, this goes for everyone. i've lost a lot of loved ones this year -- IRL friends, celebrities, our LGBT siblings in orlando... and i've tried really hard to keep all this in mind. celebrate your loved ones. they will never leave you. they live on with you in so many different ways.
> 
> anyway, sorry for the super long note here. i just noticed that so many of us are having trouble coping with anton's death and i... want you all to know that i wrote this fic with a lot of these thoughts in mind. hopefully they'll help someone.
> 
> feel free to send me an ask or an IM on [my tumblr](http://st4rfleet.tumblr.com/) if you want to vent because i really... i really want to help everyone find peace.
> 
> thank you for reading.


End file.
